This just in! Bay Area mother discovers that the behavior of her sons has everything and nothing to do with her. Stephanie Mackley—known for her essays on feminism, parenting, and dark-ish, somewhat funny forays into the meaning of life—has recently found her footing again, after a hell-raising summer and first few weeks back to school.… Read More Mom learns she has everything and nothing to do with her children's behavior
Watching your kid hit, kick, bite, headbutt, hair-pull, or in any way hurt another person is pretty much the worst. Even worse than the worst: when your kid keeps doing all that crap for months, years even, despite doing every damn thing you can think of to get it to stop. This was my kid,… Read More Is your kid a hitter, kicker, or biter? Read this.
It’s been a long time. I’ve gotten out of the habit of writing here, and my overall happiness factor has suffered as a result. This is a time when my overall happiness factor needs bolstering, given the doldrums of winter and staring daily into the belly of the beast of our current president. It’s hard… Read More On hope lying dormant, then sprouting
On New Years Day, I sat in the hard shell of a chair at the laundromat. I alternately felt fine and so broken that I wondered if any of the other launderers could tell. Did they see how my insides trembled as I struggled to get the washing machine handle to lock? Finally, the metal… Read More Motherhood, trauma, and a washing machine
This one goes out to every mother who has ever felt lost. Over it. Wired and exhausted. Overwhelmed and broken. It also goes out to every mother who has felt at the top of her game. Winning. Like her kid is the bees fucking knees. Perhaps, once or twice, you’ve felt trapped by motherhood. Or… Read More Motherhood is all of this
You know what’s crazy about living? That in a single 24 hour period you can go from feeling utterly broken and ashamed to being completely at ease and in your own skin, eating with your family on a golden evening. This time yesterday I could feel it coming. My frayed edges flaring out like the… Read More Yesterday, I lost it. Today was better.
Mid-conversation, a friend of mine recently confessed, “SUMMER. IS. KILLING. ME.” I had a sense of what she meant, but hadn’t quite gotten there yet. My week of starfishing had me all relaxed, full-tanked, ready to rumble. Well, it’s been two weeks. My tank is no longer full. Ready to rumble, I am not. SUMMER.… Read More We don't make summer like they used to
Alternate realities are helpful for the sake of comparison. I know, because I’m currently living one. My house feels twice as big, my brain half as full. I slept till nine effing thirty this morning and ate pizza and jellybeans for dinner last night. This is my life without children. For one week, both boys… Read More My week as a starfish or living at home without children
I learned it from Kidpower, this kick ass group that taught our preschool about safety and strangers. (The reason Kidpower kicks ass is because they teach a whole boat-load of potentially freaky stuff in the spirit of personal power and curiosity, not fear.) Our Kidpower trainer did it first. This very together woman with a very together haircut and strong,… Read More Scripting my kids to emotional intelligence
Until just now, I found the thought of pre-school graduation mildly sickening. Something for wealthy kids in uniforms, for overly sentimental, clingy parents who iron their pants. But here I am. Looking forward to it. Wanting it. Needing a ceremony to help me say goodbye to the school that has been a refuge for me… Read More Coming to terms with preschool graduation